


It's Fine All of the Time

by Wolfarella



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drunk Sex, Emotionally Repressed, Frottage, M/M, Sexual Content, aka Herc dies instead of Chuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-25
Updated: 2013-08-25
Packaged: 2017-12-24 13:39:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/940619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfarella/pseuds/Wolfarella
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war's over. The Shatterdome's about to be closed for good. And if that's not a strange enough feeling for Raleigh, Chuck Hansen just has to go and make things even stranger by paying him late night visits with only one thing on his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Fine All of the Time

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah, pretending the movie ended the exact same way that it did, only it was Chuck who got injured and had to stay behind instead of Herc. Title taken from the lyrics of "Fuck the Pain Away" by Peaches, which was the initial inspiration/working title. It's been a while since I've written and shared anything, so I hope you enjoy it!

The first time Chuck comes to him, Raleigh’s too tired to really know what to think.

He’s stretched across his bed, just getting ready to fall asleep after a long, long day of cleaning out Pentecost’s office with Mako, and there are four short knocks at his door. For a moment, he just lays there, because god, he doesn’t ask for much, and all he wants is to rest for an hour or two, but then the thought of it being Mako crosses his mind, and he scrambles to his feet. So far, she’s been holding it together since Pitfall, but… well, he worries. A lot.

Only it’s not Mako at the door. And it’s not even Tendo or anyone else he’d expect.

It’s Chuck Hansen.

Raleigh stares at him for a good, hard moment, then says stupidly, “Where’s Max?” Because he and Chuck haven’t at all talked since the mission. Since… Herc. And he knows that with a guy like Chuck, you sort of have to tread lightly, so he isn’t even all that sure _how_ to talk to him now. He’d almost forgotten Chuck was even still there, on account of him spending so much time to himself these past few days. He’s surprised — pleasantly, he figures —  to see he’s no longer wearing the sling for his arm, but he doesn’t mention it.

Chuck shakes his head. Grumbles something noncommittally. Glares at the floor like it’s personally offended him.

“Everything alright?” Raleigh asks next.

Chuck snorts. “Don’t talk.”

“What?”

“I said, don’t talk,” Chuck says. “Don’t ruin it.”

And before Raleigh can even think about how to respond, Chuck’s suddenly _right there_. His hands fist into the front of Raleigh’s T-shirt and he yanks him in, crushing him into a hard, biting kiss. And Raleigh’s first thought is, _Christ, who’d have thought this kid would be so good at this?_ and he kisses him back on instinct, his body responding as though on its own volition. With his arms out at his sides — what else is he going to do with them? — he lets Chuck back him into the room, and he lets himself enjoy the moment for what it is. He can’t remember the last time someone’s kissed him like this, like they’re trying to suck the very life out of him.

But then reality kicks in and he comes to his senses. This is _Chuck_. This is the guy whose nose he’d damn near broken a little while ago. The guy who always seems to try his best to get on Raleigh’s every last nerve — sometimes still even refuses to say his name right. Chuck doesn’t even like him.

_He must. Why else is he here?_

Ignoring that thought, he pulls back, turning his head to break the kiss, even as Chuck tries to follow his mouth. “What are you doin’, Hansen?”

“You can’t figure it out? Here I thought that whole ‘dumb blond’ thing was just a stereotype,” Chuck says gruffly, and his hands go for Raleigh’s sleep pants next.

“No, I mean, _why_?” Raleigh asks, grabbing Chuck’s wrists. 

Chuck snatches his hands away, then scowls at Raleigh. “Look mate, do you wanna fuck me or not?” he demands.

Raleigh laughs, but only because he can’t control it —come on, where the hell did _that_ come from? “Is this some kind of joke?” he asks.

A muscle in Chuck’s jaw clenches, his eyes narrowing, and Raleigh’s pretty sure his face gets a little pink. After a second, he shakes his head and starts to back off towards the open door. “Just forget it, _Ray_.”

Reflexively, Raleigh reaches out to stop him, grabbing him by the crook of his arm. “Wait a minute — you can’t just come to my room in the middle of the night and —”

He doesn’t get to finish.

Chuck is on him again, his mouth covering Raleigh’s and effectively cutting him off. His kiss is harder this time, more pointed, and it’s almost like he’s trying to convey something through it, something that Raleigh’s too exhausted to understand. In fact, he’s too exhausted to do much of _anything_. At least, that’s his excuse when he finds himself mirroring the kiss. And as Chuck thrusts his tongue into his mouth, Raleigh lets him, greets it with his own.

When Chuck’s hand is suddenly on him, cupping him through his pants, Raleigh sputters out a surprised curse and pulls back again. Instead of saying anything though, he lifts his gaze and looks over Chuck’s shoulder at the open door.

Still glowering at him, Chuck lurches for the door, slams it shut loud enough to wake all of China, and as he storms back towards him, Raleigh — god help him — opens his arms. Chuck crashes into him like a tidal wave, hands roaming over every inch of Raleigh that he can reach, his touch hard and rough. It’s like Raleigh’s silent command to shut the door is all that was needed to embolden Chuck, and he’s touching Raleigh in a way that makes it seem like he’s afraid if he stops, one of them will disappear into thin air. And somehow, they end up on the bed, Chuck racing out of his clothes as if they’re on fire, and Raleigh struggling to match the pace as he strips himself.

It’s clumsy and fast, with Chuck saying, “Harder,” so much that Raleigh’s practically fucking him through the damn mattress, working so hard he almost doesn’t have the time or energy to enjoy himself. They come together, but not in a powerful and romantic way, more a ‘Get the fuck off me, don’t touch me anymore, I’m coming,’ sort of way. When Raleigh collapses beside him, he’s sweating and panting, and feeling about a hundred times more drained than he had before, and a part of him almost wants to be irritated with Chuck for making him feel like this.

Properly spent, Raleigh drifts off almost right away. When he wakes up the next morning, Chuck’s gone. Not that he’d expected anything else.

* * * * *

The second time Chuck comes to him, Raleigh’s drunk off his ass.

He and Mako get back to the Shatterdome late one night, having just visited a bar in the slums together. They’d shared a drink for themselves, and then one for Pentecost and one for Yancy. Then another for Herc. And then for the Wei triplets and the Kaidanovskys. And then a few more just for anyone else lost to the damn war.

So needless to say, they’re both pretty trashed. They lean on each other as they walk back, arms thrown around one another’s waists, Mako teaching him an old Japanese nursery rhyme that he’ll almost certainly never remember in this state. After pressing a kiss to Raleigh’s temple, which has sort of become their ‘thing,’ she disappears to Pentecost’s room — she’s been sleeping there more and more — and he makes his way to his own quarters alone.

Chuck’s waiting for him, sitting on the steps outside his bunk, arms resting on his knees and instant scowl on his face when he catches sight of Raleigh. Raleigh flashes him a lazy grin, eyebrows going up in question. To say he’s surprised would be putting it lightly;  it’s been almost a week since the night Chuck had come to his room, and whenever Raleigh had tried to talk to him — like the day after when he’d seen him in the mess hall — Chuck had grumped at him and snapped something along the lines of, oh, “Fuck off, hero boy,” and well, that’d been that.

“’The hell you been?” Chuck asks, standing up.

“Hello to you too,” Raleigh says.

“You’re drunk.” And Chuck almost sounds disappointed.

“I am.” Raleigh shrugs, passing Chuck to open the door. He tosses a glance over his shoulder at Chuck, who just stands there all grouchy, looking like a cat that’s been left out in the rain or something, and Raleigh asks, “Something you wanted, Hansen?”

“You gonna invite me in, or what?”

“Now why would I do that?” Raleigh asks, turning to face him fully, and yeah, maybe he’s playing around with Chuck. But how can he not?

Chuck frowns harder. “You know, you ain’t exactly my first choice either.”

“If you’re tryin’ to seduce me, you’re gonna have to do _a lot_ better,” Raleigh says.

His teasing has the desired effect: Chuck’s ears turn red. “I’m not… trying to seduce you,” he says, looking down, and Raleigh can’t help but chuckle, because the words don’t at all match the pissed off tone.

He folds his arms over his chest and raises his eyebrows, but Chuck just stares at the floor. They stand like this for a little while until Raleigh gets bored and caves first. With a sigh, he opens the door wider and takes a step back. “Do whatever you want,” he says.

And apparently, what Chuck wants is to shove Raleigh up against the door — using Raleigh’s body to push it shut, the bastard — and kiss him like his life depends on it. His mouth is desperate against Raleigh’s, lips firm and unyielding, and Raleigh brings a hand up to cup his jaw, like he’s trying to reassure him that they have all the time in the world, that there’s no need to virtually wear Raleigh’s lips down until they’re gone.

They don’t make it to the bed this time. Instead, Chuck wants Raleigh to bend him over right there and fuck him, and Raleigh’s a gentleman — he obliges. It takes him a little longer than usual to get hard and Chuck huffs at that, like Raleigh’s the most annoying thing on the planet, but Raleigh just laughs it off — he _had_ been drinking, it’s not his fault that he needs a little more time to get going.

It’s even less graceful than the first time, with Chuck’s cheek pressed against the door and Raleigh’s motions short and somewhat uncoordinated. Not giving it much thought, his more tender nature kicking in, he suspects, Raleigh leans in and presses his lips softly to the back of Chuck’s neck. Chuck’s entire body tenses and goes still, he freezes up like he’s just been hit by a wave of coolant, but Raleigh doesn’t pay it any mind, really.

At least, not until Chuck shrugs him off and ducks his head to get away from the kiss. “Can’t you go any harder? You’re putting me to sleep,” he says through his teeth.

“Should’ve figured you weren’t one for affection, Chuck,” Raleigh says sarcastically, and maybe a little disappointed.

“About to start snoring here, mate.”

So Raleigh shuts up and gives him what he wants. With his fingernails digging into Chuck’s hips, Raleigh holds him in place and quickens his pace. Chuck grits out words like, “Harder,” and “Faster,” until Raleigh’s slamming against him relentlessly, crowding him up against the door like they’re doing this in a cramped janitorial closet instead of an actual room. Uttering a string of curses, Raleigh comes first, which Chuck complains about, of course.

And even though he’s reeling from what happened to be an exhausting orgasm, Raleigh reaches around Chuck, bats his hand away, and takes Chuck’s dick into his fist. Chuck starts to protest, but Raleigh begins pumping him hard and quick, and a low, guttural groan cuts off Chuck’s words. As Raleigh gets him off, Chuck goes silent, his breath catching in his throat, and his body stiffening again. He grunts as he comes all over Raleigh’s hand, and his back arches a little against Raleigh’s chest, head falling back onto Raleigh’s shoulder — Raleigh can’t help but to turn his face into Chuck’s hair.

But the minute he regains his composure, Chuck jerks away from him like he can’t stand touching him, and as Raleigh moves away, picking up his discarded shirt to clean off with — he can’t even remember when he took it off — Chuck yanks his pants up. Straightening his own shirt, he looks at Raleigh, and Raleigh looks at him, and they sort of just stand there like two stone dumb idiots, gazing through half-lidded eyes at one another, panting like they just went to-toe-to-toe in the Kwoon.

“See you around, Ray,” Chuck sneers. It sounds practiced. And he looks funny, almost like saying it makes him feel like he’s going to be sick or something, but Raleigh’s too out of it — too much booze, not enough sleep, weak knees from coming so damn hard —  to be able to figure out what’s wrong with him.

Besides, he’s gone in moments. Slamming the door on his way out and leaving Raleigh standing in the middle of his room, holding a now wet and sticky T-shirt and struggling to process what Chuck’s problem could possibly be.

* * * * *

The third time Chuck comes to him, Raleigh’s already figured it all out.

Because at the end of the day, while doing a bit of sparring with Mako to pass the time and keep himself limber, it hits Raleigh that Chuck Hansen is _using_ him. He’s so surprised by the revelation that he fails to dodge Mako’s offensive maneuver, and he ends up getting flipped over her shoulder and landing hard on his back.

“Where’d you go?” she asks playfully, looking down at him.

“I’m fine,” he says with a snort of laughter, rolling to his feet.

“Could have fooled me,” she says. She suddenly brings her hanbō down, and he has no time to even think about evading it. She stops it just over his head — he can feel it ghosting across his hair — and she says, “You’re fine, huh? _Very_ believable, Raleigh.”

He grins and pushes her hanbō aside — well, she _lets him_ push it aside, because god knows he can’t push her around at all — and he straightens. He sighs wearily, smile fading, and he hesitates before he asks, “Have you seen Chuck lately? He’s been acting… well, weird.”

Mako mindlessly swings the hanbō back and forth, brow furrowing a little, and she shrugs. “He doesn’t seem to be taking it well. His father.”

Raleigh nods. That’s a given. It took him years to come to grips with Yancy’s death, and though Mako’s been taking Pentecost's very gracefully, he knows how much pain she’s in — so he certainly doesn’t expect Chuck to just be fine with what’d happened so recently. Especially with the way things had ended. _It’s like I always tell my son, Stacker — if you have the shot, you take it_ — those had been Herc’s last words. And even down in the Pacific, struggling in Gipsy’s Conn-Pod, Raleigh had heard the emotion behind them. He knows Chuck had heard it too. Knows he’s probably been listening to those words on repeat in his head ever since.

“I helped him. When he first got the sling removed,” Mako goes on. “In here actually. We sparred to see if his arm was better.”

“Was it?”

Mako nods. Then scrunches up her nose and shakes her head. “He hurt himself. I tried to get him to stop, but he wanted to keep going. He pushed himself too hard — so hard he was —” she ducks her head guiltily, like she feels bad for saying this, “— he was crying.”

Raleigh’s eyebrows go together. “He was?”

She meets his gaze again, looking considerably more somber than before. “I think it’s how he’s choosing to deal with it. Physical pain is easier to handle than mental. I tried to talk to him about it, but….” She trails off and shakes her head.

And Raleigh feels like he’s just been punched in the gut. He almost sways a little on his feet, so he firmly plants the end of his hanbō on the mat and leans on it for support. He can’t believe he’s never even considered this — he’s been so blind and _stupid_. So ignorant. It suddenly makes sense now to him; the desperation and urgency in Chuck’s kisses, the way he hadn’t actually ever seemed satisfied with it. The way he hadn’t been interested in any affection or tenderness.

It was all about how hard Raleigh could go to make Chuck forget his pain.

Raleigh feels an immense wave of guilt that makes his stomach tighten, and he wants to sit down. Has he taken advantage of Chuck without even realizing it? Jesus Christ….

“Raleigh?”

He shakes himself out of his thoughts. “I’m fine. I just… wish I could help,” he says slowly. Honestly.

Mako frowns and nods.

After a moment, Raleigh straightens again and spins his hanbō. “Best five outta six, what do you say?”

Her smile returns.

When they leave the Kwoon, they go their separate ways — not without the kiss to Raleigh’s temple that he loves far more than he’ll ever admit — and he makes his way to his quarters alone. He’s glad he moved out of the standard bunks like the one he’d had before, because this one has its own private bathroom and the shower feels incredible after the hurting Mako put on him.

Even when the water turns to ice because he’s been in there so long — hell, _especially_ after the water turns to ice, because that makes it easier to not think about the epiphany he’d had. When he gets out of the shower, pulling on only a pair of sleep pants, he walks back into the room and turns on the TV — he’s sort of addicted to having the news on at all times when he’s awake, because how else is he going to be sure the Kaiju are truly gone?

He’s making the bed up with a fresh sheet, listening to a reporter babble about something irrelevant, when there’s knocking at the door — four short ones to be exact. He hesitates, wondering vaguely if the television’s quiet enough that it can’t be heard outside the room, wondering if he ought to just pretend he isn’t there. But after a moment of deliberation, he makes his way to the door and looks through the peephole. Just in case.

It’s Chuck, of course. And Raleigh inwardly curses.

He just stands there — like a ‘bump on a log,’ Yancy used to say — and he stares through the hole, holding his breath as he waits for Chuck to leave. But Chuck doesn’t leave. He gives the door another four knocks, and then he crowds against it, bringing his face up close to the peephole like he’s trying to see through it.

With a sigh, Raleigh moves aside and pulls it open. “What are you doin’ here?” he asks.

“Can we stop beating around the bush already, for Christ’s sake?” Chuck says, pushing past him into the room.

“Alright.” Raleigh turns to face him, but leaves the door wide open.

Chuck furrows his brow. “What?”

“I said ‘alright,’ Chuck. Let’s stop beating around the bush. Why don’t you tell me what you want from me?” Raleigh asks. Because even though he’s figured it out, he wants to hear Chuck’s reasoning. Wants to get Chuck to talk about this. And to make a show of how serious he is, he crosses his arms and cocks a hip out, raising his eyebrows. “Why do you keep coming back like this?”

“Is that pretty head full of just hot air, or what?” Chuck asks, giving a dry laugh.

“It’s not working, is it?” Raleigh asks, and Chuck’s little smirk fades, his eyebrows stitching together. “It’s why you keep coming back, right? Because it’s not working the way you want it to.”

“What are you on about, Becket?” Chuck asks, but Raleigh doesn’t fail to notice the color creeping up his neck.

Raleigh shakes his head, because really, how did he not figure this out on his own? “If it hasn’t already made you feel any better, it’s not going to. You’d be better off talking to someone….”

Chuck studies him for a moment, frowning so hard that lines form on his forehead. He looks like he can’t believe Raleigh caught on to what he was doing, like his idea was so foolproof that no one would realize. He lowers his gaze. “I don’t see what’s so wrong with this,” he says stiffly.

“Your father —”

“You talk too damn much, you know that?” Chuck closes the gap between them, reaches for Raleigh, and Raleigh’s not quite sure if he wants to fight him or kiss him, but either way, he ducks away and takes a few steps back. Chuck looks madder than hell, his eyes narrowing. “Look, I ain’t here to discuss my bloody _feelings_.”

“Chuck —”

“So just shut up and give me what I want, yeah?” Chuck snaps. His tone’s gotten a little louder, and his voice isn’t quite as steady as before, and Raleigh realizes just how bad off Chuck is, realizes just what’s brewing beneath the surface. Christ, how could he not have noticed before? “I don’t see why you’re even complaining — you’re gettin’ laid, aren’t you?”

“If it’s under these circumstances, I don’t want to.”

“Alright, you got me, Ray. I come to you to forget, see? So you can do one of two things — fuck me until I can’t think straight anymore, or punch my lights out right now. Either way, _stop talking_ and help me already.” Chuck’s eyes are a little wider now, and he blinks rapidly in a way that makes Raleigh uncomfortable, because god, this is not at all what he wanted. If Chuck has a meltdown, he doesn’t know if he can handle it. He wishes he had Mako with him.

He watches Chuck for a moment, then says slowly, “Get out of here…. You should get some sleep.”

Chuck’s jaw clenches, his nostrils flaring, and if looks could kill, Raleigh would have been flopping around on the floor like a dying fish right then and there. For what feels like an eternity, neither of them say anything — Chuck just glares daggers at him, like he thinks if he stares hard enough, Raleigh will burst into flames on the spot. But then he suddenly thumps Raleigh on the chest with the flat of his palm, hard enough to send Raleigh stumbling back a little. “You _shit_ ,” he hisses. Another rough shove. “You stupid son of a bitch.”

Raleigh takes a step back, steeling himself at the same time, but he doesn’t say anything, and that seems to piss Chuck off more. He takes an actual swing at Raleigh, who grabs his wrist easily and stops the hit before it can even land, but Chuck doesn’t hesitate — he brings his other arm around, fist flying. And just like that, Raleigh finds himself in an honest-to-god brawl in his sleeping quarters.

Most of it is just Chuck throwing punches and him avoiding them, of course. But when he sees an opening, he takes it — grabbing Chuck’s arm mid-swing, he uses all of his strength to pull Chuck to him, while at the same time, spinning him so that he’s facing away from Raleigh. Chuck flails, like an enraged animal desperate not to get caught in a trap, but Raleigh has all the time he needs to pull the younger man into a tight submission hold. He yanks Chuck against him, throwing an arm across his chest like an iron bar, and Chuck struggles in his arms, grunting and spitting out curses as he tries to break free. Raleigh’s pretty sure he hears, “Get off me, you prick,” among other colorful things.

“Cool it, Hansen. Come on,” Raleigh says sharply.

“Fuck off,” Chuck snarls over his shoulder.

“This is over.”

Chuck gives a last-ditch attempt to get away, but when Raleigh’s hold on him doesn’t loosen any, he goes still. His neck and ears are glowing red, and though Raleigh can’t see his face, he can only imagine the expression he must be wearing. “You bastard,” Chuck snaps.

“Yeah…. Yeah, I know,” Raleigh says softly.

Chuck’s panting a good deal from all the effort he’d put into fighting Raleigh, and Raleigh wants to speak, to say something to reassure him, but he doesn’t know where to even start. So he just stands there, keeping Chuck against him, and listening to his breathing.

And all of a sudden, Chuck makes a choked sound, and he goes weak against Raleigh. He starts to collapse, his legs buckling, and Raleigh's so stunned he has no choice but to follow him to the floor, still holding him. Chuck’s chest heaves as breathy little noises start to leave him, and Raleigh realizes somewhat belatedly that he’s crying. The sobs are short and harsh — they sound angry, which isn’t a surprise, since everything Chuck does is angry — and his effort to keep quiet just makes him sound like he’s struggling to get air into his lungs. More surprising is that he’s so beyond the point of caring that he even lets his head fall back against Raleigh’s shoulder.

And Raleigh’s heart breaks for this twenty-one year old kid who grew up knowing only the pain of war.

Without thinking about it, Raleigh brings his free hand up to comb his fingers through Chuck’s hair. It’s a sign of how far gone Chuck is that he doesn’t at all try to pull away. He just lays there in a heap, half on the floor, half in Raleigh’s lap, and he lets it all out. Raleigh says nothing, he just holds him through it.

He figures he must doze off at one point, because the next thing he knows, the door’s being slammed shut and he’s lying on the floor, alone. He stretches out on his back on the cool metal, throwing his arms over his face, and he’s sure he can’t remember a time he’s ever felt more useless.

* * * * *

The fourth time Chuck comes to him, Raleigh isn’t even in his room.

He’s in the empty bay where Gipsy used to be housed, on the gantry where he and Mako had disappeared a few times to watch her getting repaired. There’s not a soul around, and with no Jaegers left in the Shatterdome, it feels all too surreal to him — like he’s trapped in a dream of sorts. The station’s getting ready to be closed for good — only he and some of the others are remaining until the very end, and that’s only because none of them have any idea where to go from here. It’s a ghost town now. No engineers or technicians, no sound of drills or other tools. Just an emptiness.

With as quiet as it is — and god, it’s enough so that Raleigh’s sure he can hear his blood flowing through his veins — it’s a surprise that anyone can sneak up on him. But sure enough….

“Does it get any easier?”

He flinches a little and turns to see Chuck standing there, hands on his hips and expression blank. It’s been a good few days since Chuck had broken down in front of Raleigh, and Raleigh hasn’t seen him since — well, there was the one time in the mess hall, but Chuck had turned tail and fled faster than Raleigh’s ever seen a human being move — Max had loped after him, barking happily like he’d thought it was some sort of game. As if Chuck can read his mind and remembers that very instant, color crawls up his neck, and he looks down at the metal floor.

“Does what?” Raleigh asks.

Chuck hesitates. “The loss…. I mean, my mum — it was so long ago, I was a kid.” He snorts a little, like he’s irritated with himself for even bringing it up, but he continues. “Sometimes I think that without the Drift, I might not even remember what she really looked like.”

He looks at Raleigh, but only for a second, before dropping his gaze once more. And come on, Chuck Hansen talking about this sort of thing? Hell’s probably freezing over this very moment. And because he doesn’t know what to say, Raleigh kind of purses his lips and just waits.

Chuck finally goes on. “But my old man — he’s still _right there_. Sometimes I swear I can still smell his aftershave. I always hated that bloody smell.”  He pauses, then meets Raleigh’s gaze again. “So… does it get any easier?”

Raleigh thinks for a moment, then says slowly, “No.”

Chuck nods like it’s the answer he expected. After a moment, feeling bad about his short answer, Raleigh opens his mouth to speak, but Chuck cuts him off by saying, “I came to you for honesty, Becket. Don’t try and take it back now.”

He sighs and moves to stand beside Raleigh, grasping the railing and gazing out at the empty bay. Raleigh turns a little to face him, studies his profile — from the set of his jaw, to the hard line his lips are pressed into, to the way his brows are slightly furrowed. Raleigh wants to reach for him, maybe squeeze his shoulder, rub his neck, _something_ , and a part of him figures he should be allowed to, seeing all the shit they’ve already done together. But he quashes the urge and lowers his gaze instead, crossing his arms like he’s afraid if he doesn’t pin them against his body, they’ll act out on their own.

“It should have been me,” Chuck says suddenly, his mouth barely moving as he speaks, the words coming out stiffly.

Raleigh can practically feel his expression soften, and he nods a little. “Sure, like it should’ve been me Knifehead took instead of Yancy,” he says. “I feel you there…. Boy do I.”

“You really feel like that? Even now?”

“Sometimes it’s the only thing I can think about,” Raleigh admits. He shrugs and shakes his head, turning around to face the bay like Chuck. “But things — well, they just didn’t work out that way. We can run through all the motions in our head — we _should_ have done this, we _should_ have done that. Doesn’t matter. Doesn’t change anything. We just have to….”

“Accept it,” Chuck says. And Raleigh nods. Chuck curses and pushes away from the railing. “It’s all a load of shit, ain’t it, Ray?”

Raleigh gives a wry little smile, nodding. “You can say that again.”

“It’s all a load of shit.”

Raleigh turns to face him again, eyebrows going up. “Did you just… make a joke?”

“Maybe I did,” Chuck says, and it almost sounds like there’s a hint of amusement in his tone.

Raleigh grins. “You’re warming up to me, Hansen.”

“Oh, in your dreams.” Chuck rolls his eyes and turns to leave.

“Chuck?”

He glances back.

“You wanna get something to eat with me?” Raleigh asks. “Not here — in the city.”

Chuck doesn’t say anything right away, just stands there staring at Raleigh like he’s suddenly the most complex and interesting thing in the world. Finally, he asks, “You and me?”

“We can bring Tendo if you want, but you’ll have to listen to his crappy jokes,” Raleigh says with a playful grin.

And god — Chuck actually smiles, complete with a set of dimples and all. It disappears quickly, like the sun disappearing behind clouds, and Chuck says with an air of finality, “You and me.”

It’s a small eatery that Raleigh takes Chuck to, one that mostly caters to the take-out crowd, so there are never very many sit-down customers. They each get more food than they’ll probably be able to finish — hey, they’re war heroes, they deserve all the food they want, right? — and they grab a cramped little booth in the corner of the dimly lit restaurant. They eat in silence, but it’s a surprisingly comfortable silence — which is something Raleigh never thought he’d have with Chuck.

It’s Chuck who breaks the silence. “What do you miss most about your brother?”

Raleigh’s so surprised by the question that he lowers his chopsticks, accidentally dropping the piece of chicken he’d had poised in them. He heaves a little sigh, looking around the restaurant thoughtfully, and he lifts one of his shoulders in a half-shrug. “Don’t know. Don’t think there’s any one thing…. His laugh, maybe. He liked to pretend he didn’t think I was funny.”

“You’re not.”

“Keep teasing me like this and I’ll start to think you actually like my company,” Raleigh says with a smile.

A smirk threatens to show, but Chuck ducks his head a little sheepishly and it’s gone. After a moment, he asks, “Do you ever… see him?”

Raleigh’s smile fades. “You see Herc?” he asks softly.

Chuck blinks a few time, swallowing visibly, and he keeps his gaze averted. He doesn’t answer.

“That night Mako and I went out? I saw him then,” Raleigh says after a beat. He concentrates on his food again, hoping it’ll make it easier to talk about this sort of thing. He sees his brother every now and then, sure. So much he should probably be used to it by now, but he’s not. He’s so very _not_ used to it. “We, ah, we walked to the bar, and on the way, there was this guy in front of us. I would have sworn on my life at that moment that it was Yancy. I started following him and it was like I forgot Mako was even with me….” He snorts humorlessly. “I practically chased this guy down. And when I finally caught up to him, well….” He really doesn’t need to point out that the guy hadn’t looked at all like his brother when he’d finally gotten a closer look. And he doesn’t need to tell Chuck that when he’d returned to Mako, she’d said nothing, just given him a small, sad smile and had taken his hand in hers for the rest of the walk.

Chuck watches him for a long moment, then nods. When he speaks, his words are slow like he’s making sure to choose them carefully. “You wouldn’t know, looking at you…. That you’re still feeling it.”

He doesn’t have to say what ‘it’ is — Raleigh knows he means the loss. “Yeah, well — as hard as it is, we make do,” he says. He leans across the table some, raising his eyebrows. “You’ll get through it, Chuck. Just like I did. Just like Mako is.”

At first, Chuck looks a little irritated, his instinctive defense mechanism kicking in, and he opens his mouth — no doubt to snap something at Raleigh. But then he just sighs and relaxes in his seat. He pushes his food around on his plate, and chances a quick look at Raleigh before he finally speaks.

“Reckon if you can do it, anyone can. I can at least say I wasn’t connected to my father when it happened.”

Raleigh’s throat dries like it usually does whenever he thinks about Yancy’s last moments, but he nods. “Loss is loss. It’ll always be hard.”

Chuck watches him very openly all of a sudden, his green eyes wide and contemplative. After what could be ten seconds or ten minutes, he says, “I’m sorry.” And though he doesn’t elaborate, his eyes — which are suddenly so open and expressive — say he’s apologizing not just for Yancy’s death, but for what it must have been like for Raleigh to have been Drifting with him when it happened.

Raleigh offers up a half-smile to let Chuck know it’s appreciated, and then he decides it’s high time the subject’s changed. “So what’re you going to do when the ‘dome closes?”

Chuck hesitates. “Don’t really have any plans…. You?”

“Wouldn’t mind traveling, I guess. Visit Budapest again one day, maybe. I’m pretty sure Mako wants to go back to Japan for a bit, so I’ll probably go with her.” Raleigh takes a gulp of his drink, more than glad to be off the topic of his brother, and he doesn’t fail to notice the way Chuck’s gaze drops. With a small smile, he adds, “You could come with, you know….”

“What’s Japan got for me?” Chuck asks, but Raleigh doesn’t miss the way his mouth twitches like he wants to smile. It’s funny how noticeable that sort of stuff is now.

“What doesn’t it? Come on, you, me, Mako and Max — it’ll be great.”

Chuck’s mouth twitches again at the mention of his dog, but then his expression gets hard again. He presses his lips together and shakes his head slightly. “I got a lot of shit to settle,” he says.

And Raleigh nods. Knows he could argue if he wanted, but decides to drop it. They finish the rest of their dinner in the same comfortable silence as it was started, and when Raleigh presses his knee against Chuck’s under the table, Chuck doesn’t pull away.

* * * * *

The fifth time Chuck comes to him, Raleigh’s just finished packing up his room.

It’s the night before the Shatterdome closes for good, before it’s bought and used for something else entirely — a museum, maybe? — before there are no remaining Jaeger stations left in the world. It’s simultaneously the greatest and worst feeling in the world. He and Mako have already decided what they’re doing — quick trip to Anchorage to visit Yancy’s gravesite (though no body had been recovered, of course, Raleigh got him a prime spot anyway and went ahead with the funeral like it had) and then Tokyo to stay for a while. It seems senseless to cross the Pacific for just that, going to the States only to fly right back to Asia, but it’s what they want to do. And they figure they’ve earned it. The chopper they’d arranged for would be picking them up in the morning, and then it would all be over.

No more Jaeger pilots.

By the four knocks at the door, he knows it’s Chuck. It’s only been about two days since they’d had dinner together, but Raleigh feels like it was a turning point. He’s seen Chuck once or twice since, and they’d actually greeted one another like friends. Well… acquaintances at the very least. And though Raleigh doesn’t like making assumptions, he thinks Chuck’s looking a lot better than he had before.

He pulls open the door and Chuck looks at him almost like a deer in the headlights, like he’s suddenly forgotten why he’s there. After a moment though, he manages, “Hey.”

Raleigh smiles. “Hey yourself. What’s goin’ on?”

“Can I come in?” is Chuck’s response.

Raleigh hesitates, mostly because he’s a little confused by Chuck’s apparent apprehension. He wordlessly steps aside, gesturing, and Chuck makes a little noise in his throat that Raleigh’s sure is supposed to be, “Thanks,” as he slinks into the room. After a brief moment of thought, Raleigh shuts the door and turns to face Chuck.

“So you’re leaving tomorrow,” Chuck says. It’s not really a question, but Chuck looks at him like it is, his eyebrows going up.

“Pretty sure we all are,” Raleigh says with a little smirk. “Station’s being closed for good at midnight tomorrow night — they’d probably kick us out if we tried to stay longer.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Chuck says quickly, and he swallows visibly. He looks completely uncomfortable and awkward, and he tugs at his T-shirt like it’s too tight. “So, uh…. That offer — the one you made the other night — is it still on the table?”

Raleigh can’t help but smile again, because it looks like it’s physically paining Chuck to ask that question, to ask for help. But he doesn’t get the chance to answer — what he wants to say is, ‘Of course, you dumbass. It’ll always be on the table’ — because Chuck rushes on.

“It’s so last minute, I know. It’s — it’s alright,” he says, shaking his head. And he almost looks like he’s about to get angry — whether at himself for being so inarticulate or at Raleigh for just being Raleigh, who knows?

Grinning a little, Raleigh holds up an index finger. “It’s on the table on one condition,” he says, and Chuck looks at him, somewhat wary. “You _absolutely_ gotta bring Max.”

Chuck snorts, a little smile flashing to his face for the briefest of moments before it’s gone again. He nods, sounding relieved as he says, “Yeah. Okay. Can do.”

Raleigh’s grin widens and he reaches over, cupping the side of Chuck’s neck lightly, and Chuck tenses. He looks like he wants to pull away at first, but Raleigh strokes a thumb along the line of his jaw, and it seems to relax him a bit. They stand like this for a good moment, just watching one another, but then Chuck’s suddenly leaning in.

Raleigh takes a step back, letting his arm fall to his side. “Chuck….”

“What? You don’t want me anymore?” Chuck asks gruffly. More than affronted by Raleigh’s reaction.

“Quite the opposite, Charlie boy,” Raleigh answers, and Chuck bristles at the nickname — Raleigh makes a mental note to call him that more often just because. “I just… don’t want to be the guy you only come to when you want someone to fuck away your pain.”

Chuck winces a little at that, and his jaw clenches. He seems to consider his words for a moment, and then says, “Maybe I wanted to try something different this time.”

Raleigh raises his eyebrows in question, but doesn’t say anything. Chuck moves towards him slowly — the word that comes to Raleigh’s mind is ‘stalk’ — and keeping their gazes locked, he grabs Raleigh’s jaw. His hand is calloused and his grasp rough, but as he leans in he seems unsure and tentative. Raleigh doesn’t move to meet him, just waits, and when Chuck kisses him, the brush of his lips is soft, like an echo. Raleigh’s more into this than he cares to admit, seeing Chuck so vulnerable and raw — he’d never have thought breaking through Chuck’s outer walls would feel so good.

When Raleigh doesn’t pull away, Chuck kisses him again, a little harder this time. It’s not like the kisses they’ve shared any other time, all desperate and fraught — it’s slow and curious. Raleigh can’t help but to keep his eyes open to watch, feeling like he’s finally seeing the real Chuck here. He’s not the cocky Jaeger pilot with over ten Kaiju kills under his belt, just a guy who’s all alone in the world, much like Raleigh was before Mako came along. And whatever _this_ is between them? Well, it’s actually kind of beautiful, Raleigh thinks. But as Chuck’s other hand comes up, his fingers sliding through the hair at the nape of Raleigh’s neck, Raleigh finally lets his eyes fall closed, and he gives in to the moment.

He slants his mouth against Chuck’s, helping to deepen the kiss, and Chuck makes an appreciative little noise in his throat — a noise that cuts right through Raleigh and goes south almost instantly. He shapes his lips around Chuck’s tongue as it slides into his mouth, and his hands find their way to Chuck’s hips, squeezing a little even though Chuck’s far from needing any encouragement. He kisses Raleigh almost greedily, his hold tightening in Raleigh’s hair, and his other hand moves down Raleigh’s front, stroking his chest through his sweater.

When he suddenly breaks the kiss, he’s panting somewhat, like he’d forgotten to breathe the entire time, and he almost looks surprised, like he can’t believe how much he’d enjoyed it. Raleigh gazes at him, amused, and Chuck turns to look at Raleigh’s bed, his brow furrowing as though in thought. Raleigh studies him — well, studies the way that one vein in Chuck’s neck has become visible with the way his head is turned — and after a moment, is the first to speak.

“You wanna stay the night?” he asks. Cheekily adds, “Last chance you’ll have.”

“Can I?” Chuck asks.

By way of answering, Raleigh leans in and noses at Chuck’s neck, nuzzling him before kissing at that damn vein. Chuck actually shudders against him, and Raleigh can’t stop the chuckle he lets out against Chuck’s flushed skin. Looks like he found a weak spot.

“Bastard,” Chuck hisses.

“I know,” Raleigh says. Using his hold on Chuck’s hips, he guides him the few steps to the bed, saying as he does so, “Come here.”

In mere seconds, they’re shirtless and Raleigh has Chuck sprawled on his back across the bed, laying over him with his face buried in Chuck’s neck again, and his hands exploring Chuck’s thick torso. He traces that vein in Chuck’s neck with his tongue, reveling in the way Chuck writhes beneath him from so simple a touch, and then he lifts his head to look down at him. There’s a blush splashed across Chuck’s cheeks, and Raleigh knows he probably shouldn’t, but he finds it really adorable. As he grins down at Chuck, Chuck frowns irritably like he can read Raleigh’s mind.

“Stop lookin’ at me like that,” he grumps.

“I’m just looking,” Raleigh says innocently.

Chuck suddenly moves, rolling them both over until Raleigh’s on his back this time. He settles between Raleigh’s legs easily, pushing his hips down, and Raleigh’s eyes flutter a little as Chuck’s cock, which, he can faintly feel, is already mostly hard, grinds against his own through their pants. Chuck laughs at Raleigh’s reaction, then he pushes down again, and Raleigh’s hips lift instinctively to meet the motion.

“You’re already hard,” Chuck practically crows at him, wearing a triumphant little smirk.

“So are you.”

Chuck ignores the remark and leans in to give Raleigh a firm kiss, his teeth tugging on Raleigh’s bottom lip. Quickly, he moves to nip lightly at Raleigh’s chin, then lets his lips ghost up Raleigh’s jaw, before coming back to Raleigh’s mouth like he just can’t decide what part of Raleigh he wants to kiss more. It makes Raleigh chuckle — maybe a little breathlessly as Chuck rolls his hips again — and Chuck’s response to that is a little growl.

Raleigh snakes a hand between them, slides it down to the fly of Chuck’s pants, and Chuck stops moving, letting Raleigh unbutton and unzip them. He reaches beneath the material, past the waistband of Chuck’s boxers, and as he takes a hold of Chuck’s cock, he grins up at him because come on, the bastard’s just as hard as he is. His strokes are slow and easy, he takes his time and keeps his gaze on Chuck’s face to watch his expressions change — which is a good move, considering the view he gets. Chuck’s eyes close, the vein at his throat popping with the set of his jaw and slight arch of his neck, and his lips part a little as he breathes shallowly.

Still grinning, Raleigh leans up and grazes his teeth along Chuck’s throat. A little noise leaves Chuck and he starts moving his hips again, thrusting down into Raleigh’s moving hand. Raleigh doesn’t speed up — all the other times with Chuck have been quick and rushed, he wants this one to be slow, wants to savor it. With every measured stroke upwards, he squeezes his fingers around Chuck’s cock almost too tightly, and there are no words to describe how much he enjoys the way it makes Chuck’s breathing hitch.

Chuck curses, and his voice breaks a little, and it’s a sound that very nearly makes Raleigh throb impatiently. He rocks his hips upwards, rubbing himself against Chuck’s thigh, biting a little harder at Chuck’s neck to stifle any embarrassing noises that might be welling in him. Chuck groans in response, and he pulls away so suddenly that Raleigh almost gasps in protest.

Before he can say anything though, Chuck’s practically tearing Raleigh’s pants open, hooking his fingers into the waistband and tugging sharply. Raleigh, glad to let Chuck be in control like this, raises his hips a little to help, and after wrestling a little with them, Chuck manages to pull the pants all the way down. Raleigh’s now completely naked, but he doesn’t shy away from Chuck’s gaze as he turns back to him, and Chuck’s eyes sweep over every inch of Raleigh bit by bit, like he’s trying to memorize every line and shape. It’s like he’s finally seeing all that Raleigh has to offer, because all the other times he’d never cared to.

Raleigh figures he must be pleased with what he sees, because then Chuck’s shoving his own pants and boxers down over his hips and shimmying the rest of the way out of them. When he settles over Raleigh again, their full erections nestling together, he’s a little breathless and he doesn’t waste any time in starting to move against Raleigh. He thrusts against him, grinding their bare cocks together, and pleasure ripples through Raleigh and makes him sigh softly. His hands settle on Chuck’s hips, and after a moment to collect himself — because that friction feels so damn good, and Chuck’s making these sweet breathy sounds that sound so damn irresistible — Raleigh moves to match the rhythm.

Chuck braces his elbows on either side of Raleigh’s head for more leverage, and he rocks against Raleigh faster, his movements becoming just a little clumsier, and though this makes it harder to match the pace, Raleigh does his best. Chuck looks down at him with the slightest of furrows to his brow, almost like he’s trying to figure out whether or not Raleigh’s enjoying himself. Like he’s worried it only feels good to him. So Raleigh gives him a wide, toothy smile.

And damn it all if Chuck doesn’t grin back. His brow smoothes out and his dimples make their presence known, and Raleigh thinks it’s probably one of the best things he’s ever seen, right there next to Gipsy’s heart.

Chuck suddenly stops moving entirely, and he all but swoops in to focus all of his attention on giving Raleigh a deep and earnest kiss. It’s not hard or biting like Raleigh’s used to with him, but sincere and affectionate. And that sort of speaks to Raleigh’s libido more than anything else ever could. He rolls them over so that they’re both on their sides now, facing one another, and he slides between Chuck’s legs to start thrusting against him again.

Chuck’s head falls back, a surprised but pleased groan leaving him, and Raleigh just watches him with a smile as they move together.

They don’t really go any farther, which is probably a good thing, considering the fact that Raleigh can’t remember where he packed his condoms. They just rub against each other like horny teenagers until they come pretty much all over one another — Chuck’s first, his body going still, and a fist tightening in Raleigh’s hair so hard it almost hurts. A noise not unlike a strained whimper leaves him, followed by Raleigh’s name said on the smallest of breaths, and that’s all Raleigh needs to reach his own climax.

Afterwards, he’s laying on his back again, staring up at the ceiling, with Chuck still on his side next to him — he can feel Chuck staring at him, but short of a lazy grin, he doesn’t react to it. He knows they should clean up, knows the mess is going to be worse once it dries, but he thinks he’s allowed to take a moment to bask. And bask he does. Stretching his arms up over his head, he heaves a contented sigh. He can’t remember the last time he’s ever felt so satisfied.

“Want me to go?” Chuck asks suddenly.

Raleigh turns his head to look at him, then arches his eyebrows playfully. “Does it look like I want you to go?”

And Chuck turns his face into his arm to hide his smile. 

* * * * *

The last time Chuck leaves Raleigh’s room, it’s on much better terms than ever before.

They’d both showered and cleaned up just before falling asleep together — and though Chuck had grumbled about being uncomfortable, he’d let Raleigh curl up to him and throw an arm and leg almost possessively over him. Raleigh had never been one to get a full night’s sleep, especially after Yancy, so after only a few hours, he’d woken up, wrapped around Chuck like a koala bear. And after having that thought, he’d laughed so abruptly that he’d almost woken Chuck up, because come on, what a fitting metaphor.

After Chuck wakes up, he’s uncharacteristically shy. He sits with his back to Raleigh, and when he glances over his shoulder, Raleigh just flashes him a lazy grin that makes him flush. “Stop grinnin’ like a shot fox, you smarmy bastard,” he says, and his voice sounds thick and rusty.

In response, Raleigh grins wider, and brings his knee up to nudge it into Chuck’s back lightly.

They don’t speak again until they’re getting dressed. Raleigh pulls his sweater on over his head and looks at Chuck, who’s sitting down on the corner of the bed to lace up his boots. “I’m meeting Mako for breakfast in the mess,” he says. “Wanna come with?”

Chuck shakes his head, but offers up the smallest of apologetic smiles. “Gotta finish getting’ my shit together, mate.”

“Mate?”

“I ain’t about to start calling you lovey or some shit like that,” Chuck says with a snort.

“That’s alright, your eyes say enough when you look at me,” Raleigh teases.

Chuck rolls his eyes. After a minute, he glances back up. “You could save me a seat though,” he says.

And Raleigh sees the perfect opportunity. Licking his lips, he raises his eyebrows and asks pointedly, “In the mess or on the chopper?”

Chuck’s hands fumble with his laces, but he doesn’t say anything — doesn’t even look up. He finishes with his boots and stands up, and keeping his gaze pointed down, he closes the gap between them. Raleigh reaches for him, shoving a hand through Chuck’s hair, tugging lightly and drawing him closer.

“Both, I reckon,” Chuck finally says. “And wipe that smug little look off your face before I punch it off.”

“Ever the charmer, Hansen.”

Chuck grins a little arrogantly, but then it disappears completely, his eyes filling up with something like uncertainty. “You’re sure Mako won’t mind?”

“Completely. Come on, we’ll be like the Three Musketeers.”

“Oh, don’t bloody ruin it.”

As they come out of Raleigh’s quarters, Chuck leading the way with a spring in his step that Raleigh’s never seen, they hear something at the end of the corridor. A voice abruptly cutting off. Chuck looks up like a little kid who’s just gotten caught with his hand in the cookie jar, all scared and guilty and ready to bolt.

Mako and Tendo are standing together at the end of the hall, with Max sitting on the floor between them. Tendo’s holding the leash, has it wrapped around his arm up to his elbow in a way that says Max doesn’t take it easy on him, and when he catches sight of Raleigh and Chuck, he openly stares. Mako just sort of smiles at Raleigh, a teasing little quirk to her lips, and Raleigh all but beams back at her — he simply can’t help himself.

When Max notices Chuck, he stands and gives a few happy barks, wagging his stumpy tail so hard his whole body wiggles. Chuck ducks his head, ears bright scarlet, and he says curtly, “C’mere, boy.”

Tendo, after picking his jaw up off the floor, lets go of the leash, and Max bounds down the hall. Chuck crouches to greet him, scratching him behind the ears, and after throwing a short, secret look at Raleigh, he turns and strolls off in the other direction. Raleigh stares after him, walking backwards towards Mako and Tendo, and when he turns around, yeah, maybe he’s still grinning.

“Tell me I didn’t just see what I think I did,” Tendo says, hands going to his hips.

“Would you have me lie?” Mako asks.

“Guess it explains all the nights I’ve been on Max-duty,” Tendo says.

“Was wonderin’ who had him,” Raleigh says, and Mako snickers.

Tendo glances at her, incredulous. “You knew, didn’t you?”

“I suspected,” she says proudly.

His gaze goes back to Raleigh, who puffs up a little with a satisfaction he can’t quite explain, and though Tendo shakes his head slowly, he seems more impressed than anything. “Hope you know what you’re getting yourself into, Becket boy,” he says.

“You know me,” Raleigh says, shrugging.

“Sometimes wish I didn’t,” Tendo says cheekily, and with a slight friendly touch to Mako’s elbow, he turns and walks away.

Mako, smiling brightly, hooks her arm in Raleigh’s, and she gives him a tug to get him moving. “I suppose we’ll have to make more room on the helicopter, huh?” she asks. And when Raleigh’s only answer is a lopsided grin, she laughs. She sobers a little though, and says, “Good. You said you wanted to help him. And now you are.”

He pulls his arm out of hers, only so he can slide it around her shoulders and pull her in close to him, and he says, “You know, I actually think this’ll be good for all of us.”

And they make their way to the mess hall, with him humming the Japanese nursery rhyme she’d taught him that night they’d gotten drunk.

**Author's Note:**

> Big, BIG thanks to Tumblr users creeperdwarf and tazeeeer for being my guinea pigs and reading the first draft of this. <3333


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